Who Am I?
by Lucy Stephens
Summary: Ward has time in prison to just sit...& think.


Who Am I?

Ward's Thoughts While Sitting in a Military Jail

For the first ten days of his incarceration, Ward's mind was completely blank. There was no one to give him orders. He had nothing to do. No current purpose. So he sat and stared. When food came, he ate. When he was tired, he slept. Every now and then someone escorted him to a shower. But otherwise, he stared at the blank concrete wall opposite his cot.

* * *

On the eleventh day, Ward's mind began to betray him. Coulson's face flashed through his mind.

_No._

And suddenly, all Ward could think of was the look on Coulson's face when he last spoke to him. A look of pure hatred. He stayed on his mind for three straight days.

* * *

Fitz's face was next. And that's when Ward knew he was in trouble – these thoughts weren't going to stop. He spent two days trying to clear his mind again. But Fitz kept popping up.

Coulson had said he'd never be the same again. How bad was it? The med pod was *supposed* to float.

_NO. Garrett had said cross them off. That's what I did. I crossed them off. They were *supposed* to die. Those were my orders._

Simmons's face intermixed with Fitz's for another day after that.

* * *

May was a fleeting thought in his mind. He'd never seen her as anything more than a physical threat to his mission. May's reserved attitude meant she kept her distance from Ward, outside of a hotel bed, anyway.

_There was never any worry of falling for May. _

And on that day, the seventeenth day, Ward's mind finally went to where he had been avoiding the most: Skye.

_Skye. No. She doesn't matter. A crush. A weakness. She meant nothing. She means nothing._

* * *

For six straight days, he saw nothing but angry Skye, hateful Skye, violent Skye. Her face plagued his every moment.

His mind decided to really fuck with him after that.

No longer just visions of Skye angry and hating him but visions of happy moments with her. Playing Battleship. Training her in the cargo hold, his arms wrapped around her when he taught her choke hold maneuvers. Skye dancing out of the bathroom, singing quietly to herself, hair dripping down her back, and wrapped in nothing but a towel.

_She's just another beautiful woman. The world's full of them. She's nothing special._

And finally…her lips. Her lips on his in the supply closet. Her lips on his in Koenig's office. The small smile that always splayed across her lips after her first sip of coffee in the morning.

_For fucks sake. It wasn't real. I was just protecting my cover. I needed to be close to her to gain her trust. Get intel. It could never be real._

* * *

On the twenty-third day, Ward tries meditation. By the twenty-fourth day, Skye's returned.

This time she appears older, more mature. And pregnant. She lies against him on the couch, laughing, running her fingers through his hair. She looks happy. Thrilled, even.

Ward shakes his head violently, trying desperately to rid himself of that image.

_Exercise. I just need to wear my mind down enough to keep it blank._

He does crunches, push-ups, lunges, anything to keep him busy. And he counts. Over and over, he counts his actions.

* * *

The next day, day twenty-five, is a shower day. He finally asks the security guard if he can shave. All his stubble reminds him of Skye, Skye touching his face and scraping her hand over his chin. They deny his request – no razors allowed.

_Damn. That won't help._

He goes back to exercise after that.

* * *

The thoughts and visions continue. Happy memories of all of his teammates have begun now. Exercise, meditation, nothing helps. At one point, Ward even tries reciting everything he's ever been made to memorize. Song lyrics, poems, book passages, the periodic table, the order of the planets, bones in the human body, multiplication tables, *anything* to get the pictures of Skye out of his head.

_Skye. It's not just Skye. It's all of them. They were expendable. It wasn't personal. Coulson should know. Sometimes you have orders. And my orders were to help Garrett._

Garrett. That was the first time he'd thought of Garrett.

_Now what? There's no SHIELD. I don't give a damn about HYDRA. So what? Do I just sit here forever? Do I get a trial? Coulson said they'd interrogate me. But so far, nothing. Who would even interrogate me? Coulson has no authority anymore. Would I give up intel? Do I *care* about betraying Garrett? He's dead. I mean, I betrayed Skye, so why not Garrett?_

_Wait. No. I didn't betray Skye. That was my *mission.*_

And for the first time in years, Grant Ward thought *for himself* and *about himself.*

* * *

_I feel like I betrayed my team, even if they weren't my team. If I knew what I know now, would I have done things differently from the beginning? Coulson was right. I devoted my life to a deranged narcissist who never gave a damn about anyone._

Never gave a damn about anyone. Those words played over and over in his head for days.

_But Garrett saved me._

_-But he left me in the woods for years to fend for myself._

_But it was survival training. It was tough love._

_-But I had nothing to start with out there. I could have died the day after he left._

_But he broke me out of juvie._

_-Like that helped. Look where I am now._

His internal struggle continued and once again Coulson was right.

_Who am I, without him?_

That became Ward's mantra.

_Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?_

With each push-up, with each sit up, every waking second, he asked himself the same question.

_Who am I?_

* * *

Finally, after months of nothing on HYDRA or SHIELD or the team, a guard announced, "You've a visitor." He handcuffed Ward and led him to an interrogation room. Inside, there was a table with two chairs. One wall was nothing but a mirror.

_Great. Someone's watching._

He sat down and waited. Eventually, the door opened and a man walked in, a man that had plagued Ward's thoughts for many days now.

"So. Have you figured out who you are yet?"


End file.
